One of the dream snippets that punctuated today’s conscious film was about soldiers and jaguars.
My wife and I were walking through a green park. We’re looking to the right where large men dressed in military field uniforms are gathered. It’s not a large contingent. They’re behind a sort of flimsy barricade made of aluminum or some other light material. We’re trying to figure out what they’re doing over there. As we slow and watch, we realize there are jaguars among the soldiers. I’m talking the feline beast. Some of these are large adults. Most of the jaguars are dressed in little jackets around their torsos. These jackets are either turquoise and gold, or purple and gold. The jaguars are on leashes. The soldiers hold the leashes.
We — my wife and I — are saying, “What on Earth?” Why would the military have jaguars? Why are the animals dressed like that? Neither of us have ever heard or seen anything like it. As we’re slowly resuming our walk through the park, but still watching, a jaguar breaks free of the enclosure and handler and rushes toward us. This jaguar is young, though. Small and cute, like a kitten the size of a Maine coon cat. A leash trails behind it. It hurries toward us as we stop and bend toward it, smiling and laughing because it’s so cute. As it gets closer, it becomes confused and wary. Slowing, the animal pauses, then thinks about going in another direction. Meanwhile, a large black soldier, grinning and laughing, jogs up, apologizing about his new cat getting away from him.